


Kink Three: Spanking

by ChasingRabbits, thepinupchemist



Series: Cas and Dean’s Excellent Kink-venture [3]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: BDSM, Bottom Dean, Dean in Panties, Dom/sub, Dom/sub Play, Kink Exploration, Kinky Castiel, Kinky Dean, M/M, Panties, Shameless Smut, Smut, Spanking, Sub Dean, Top Castiel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-23
Updated: 2014-03-23
Packaged: 2018-01-16 17:20:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,260
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1355509
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ChasingRabbits/pseuds/ChasingRabbits, https://archiveofourown.org/users/thepinupchemist/pseuds/thepinupchemist
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean's ass is magnificent on its own, but that doesn't mean it doesn't look magnificent in a new pair of panties. </p><p>Or covered in Castiel's handprints.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Kink Three: Spanking

When Castiel explains that he’ll be taking a long lunch today, Gabriel stops icing a batch of cinnamon rolls and gives him a discerning look.

“You don’t eat lunch,” he just says. Castiel takes a breath.

“No, but I do require breaks from the shop every once in a while,” he replies evenly.

Gabriel swipes his hands on his apron. There’s a large smudge of flour on his face and bags under his eyes. Closing up late and opening up early is wearing hard on him.

“I’ll stay late tonight, you should go home and get some sleep,” Castiel says. “After I take my long break.”

“Dick,” Gabriel mutters.

Castiel doesn’t pay him any attention, though. Today he finally has the time and he’s going to take advantage of it.

He’s been browsing the Victoria’s Secret site on his computer up at the front desk nearly every day since Castiel found Dean’s pair of pink panties. Not that they aren’t lovely, Castiel just would like to see Dean in every color and every cut of panties known to mankind.

He doesn’t think that’s such an off-kilter, high-demand request.

And there’s a pair he’s settled on that would look absolutely wonderful on Dean.

Perhaps he’ll splurge and get a few pairs.

He twists in his seat all morning, waiting for noon to come so he can bolt as soon as possible and get to the mall.

“Are you okay, Cas?” asks Becky. Gabriel and Castiel both were wary of hiring anyone outside of themselves, but Becky is competent, even if she’s a little fanatical.

Castiel checks the clock on his computer. 11:51 am.

Close enough.

“I’ll be back,” he says. “Don’t let Gabriel burn the place down.”

“You’re taking lunch?” she asks. “You never take lunch.”

“I’m going to buy panties for my boyfriend,” Castiel turns, announcing this a little too loudly. Gabriel chokes on his cup of coffee; a few patrons turn and stare, but Castiel doesn’t care.

“Did you just say--”

“Panties for my boyfriend, yes I did,” Castiel nods. “We are on a mission.”

And then he adds, just for his own amusement, “From God.”

“Pretty sure God doesn’t give two shits about your dick, Elwood,” Gabriel snarks from behind the counter.

“That’s because God has never seen Dean Winchester’s ass in a pair of panties,” Castiel replies frankly. Becky blushes from her new spot behind the counter, and Gabriel rolls his eyes.

Quite honestly, he doesn’t care if it makes anyone else uncomfortable at this point. He knows what he knows and he’ll go down fighting to defend it. Everyone should know just how delicious Dean looks in a pair of panties.

And they should know that he’s not up for grabs, that he belongs to Castiel and no one else.

Castiel’s lips quirk up into a smile at that.

There’s a Victoria’s Secret within reasonable walking distance from Holy Grounds, which Castiel ascertained before he went out for this venture. With only one car between himself and Dean, his travel options for lunchtime are limited, and despite accusations that he never takes lunch, it really comes down that he doesn’t want pizza every day. (“Who doesn’t want pizza every day? You are a freak of a nature.” “I do not recall asking you, Gabriel.”)

Castiel has only once before stepped inside a Victoria’s Secret, and it was because Meg enlisted his assistance in finding lingerie for her to wear that they both liked. She was annoyed that he found her attractive in just about everything. Dean doesn’t seem to mind that as much.

When he crosses inside the store, he thumbs over a pair of powder-blue panties on the front display. They appear meant to match with the lacy bra on the mannequin above it. It’s when he reaches for a different pair, a black pair, that a sales associate with her hair in an elaborate braid asks, “Is there anything that I can help you find?”

“Yes,” Castiel answers, “I’m looking for a particular pair of underwear that I found on your website. They were sheer black, and had lace around the top and the legs.” God help him -- he can’t think of Dean’s ass in those panties while he’s in public. It does things to him.

“I think I might know which ones you’re talking about,” she says, “Let’s see if we can find them.”

Castiel follows after her when she turns and cuts through the store. He surveys the merchandise as they walk, and wonders briefly how Dean would feel about being fucked in a negligee. He might not like it as much as the panties, he thinks. Maybe stockings, though.

“All right,” the sales associate -- Ava, he sees upon inspection of her nametag -- holds up a pair and says, “Are these the ones that you’re looking for?”

They are even more perfect in person. He takes them from her hand and says, “Yes, they are. I need them in a large, please.” It was surprisingly difficult to get to Dean’s pink pair and check the size without Dean looking. If Castiel so much as looks at the pink panties a little funny, then Dean’s fuck-radar goes off and he thinks that Cas is looking for another round of adventurous sex.

...not that Castiel minds that assumption.

Ava hands the correctly-sized panties over to Cas and asks, “Do you need a bra to match?”

“Oh, no,” Castiel says, “Although I did want to look at a few more pairs of underwear. I think I’d like something in every color.”

“Every color?” she echoes.

“Absolutely,” Castiel replies, “Except perhaps the chartreuse I saw on the way in.”

And so Ava gives Castiel the most thorough tour that he’s ever had of the inside of a lingerie store. The second pair that he picks out for Dean is a lavender-colored pair that is smooth to the touch and has an interesting corset design of ribbon on the backside, ending it a bow at the top. He chooses a deep green one that doesn’t seem to have much back to it at all beyond a thin strip of lace -- and suddenly realizes why Gabriel always refers to thong-style underwear as “butt floss.”

He still thinks that Dean will look delightful in them.

By the time that Castiel finishes, he has twenty two pairs of panties tucked into a basket that he brings up to the register. The blond cashier smiles as she removes each pair and scans their price tags. She asks, “Who’s the lucky lady?”

“Oh, they’re not for a lady,” Castiel answers, “These are for my boyfriend Dean.”

There’s only a brief pause in the cashier’s methodical scanning before she nods and smiles.

“Lucky Dean,” she smiles.

“Indeed,” Castiel smiles back.

She hands him a bright pink bag, which he totes along with his head held high.

It’s 2014--a man should be able to carry a Victoria’s Secret bag without getting the looks he gets as he walks back to the shop.

The after lunch lull is in full swing when he steps back inside, which must be why Gabriel feels so comfortable shouting, “Panty raid!” when he sees the bag in Castiel’s hand.

“Gabriel--no!” Gabriel snatches the bag from him and pops his head in.

“Man, the Alphas and the Pis are gonna be pissed,” Gabriel whistles.

Castiel frowns and cocks his head to the side.

“How!” Gabriel shoves the bag back into his hands. “How have you never seen Revenge of the Nerds?”

“I’m too busy fucking my boyfriend to care,” Castiel sticks out his tongue. “Now would you please go home? I’m perfectly fine operating your cappuccino machines, or your frothers or boilers, or whatever they are.”

“That’s comforting,” Gabriel stifles a yawn. “What if I just catch a few winks on the couch back in the kid’s section over there?”

Between the two of them, Castiel and Becky manage to wrestle Gabriel out of the shop.

The rest of the day proves to be uneventful, which turns out to be problematic, because then he has more time to focus on the panties. The hot pink bag has been stowed away under the counter, but every once in a while Castiel catches a glimpse of it and he has to shake himself out of it.

The last thing he needs is to be reported to the police for having a monstrous erection in the shop during business hours.  

Castiel does end up eating a sandwich that Becky makes him, but that’s about as much excitement as the night offers.

Dean just pulls up behind the shop as Castiel slides the key into the back door and locks it. He’s playing some song on the air guitar while he waits.

Dean is very cute sometimes.

“Hey, baby,” he greets as Castiel slides into the passenger’s seat. “How was your--” His throat shuts as his eyes land on the Victoria’s Secret bag.

“I did some shopping,” is the only explanation Castiel offers. “You should get us home so you can see what it is.”

Dean speeds all the way home to their apartment, a man so intent on his mission that even when they reach their floor and Chuck is there to make some comment about them being irritating or whatever it is Chuck does, Dean doesn’t bother antagonizing him as he’s fond of doing and instead shoves Cas all the way inside their apartment.

“Okay,” Dean says, “We’re home. Can I open it?”

“No.”

“But you said --”

“I know what I said,” Castiel replies, “I’m going to let you have one thing from the bag, and if you’re good, I might let you have more later.”

Dean’s eyes fall to the Victoria’s Secret bag and he makes a soft whining noise. He swallows the lump in his throat and lifts his eyes to meet Cas’, softly replying, “I’ll be good.” Castiel doesn’t miss the way that an erection starts to strain Dean’s jeans. He doesn’t blame him. He’s not far from that place himself.

“Close your eyes,” Cas commands.

Dean does.

Castiel unwraps the pink-and-pinker striped tissue paper to sort through the veritable rainbow of panties that he’s purchased for Dean. He only stops when he finds the pair that his heart was so set on after seeing them online. They looked nice on the photoshopped model, but they’ll look incredible on Dean. He starts to get hard in earnest, then, lost in the image of the sheer black and lace pair snug against Dean’s ass, Dean bent across his lap.

“Cas?” Dean says, hesitantly, and Castiel breaks from his reverie. Why fantasize when he can have the real thing?

Castiel takes the black panties and snips off the tag before he folds the tissue paper back over the contents of the shopping bag. He steps toward Dean and says, “Hold out your hands.”

Dean does.

Castiel places the black panties in Dean’s palms and says, “I want you to wear these when I turn your ass red tonight.”

“Should I...change into them now?” Dean asks, eyes still closed.

“I’d like that,” Castiel replies, “Change in the bathroom and come back out to the living room. I think I’d like to bend you over the arm of the couch.”

He hears Dean suck in an anticipant breath, and then adds, “You may open your eyes, also.”

Dean does so and takes in another shaky breath. He looks up, and Castiel shucks his jacket and takes off his belt. Dean takes the hint and disappears into the bedroom to change. Castiel sits on the couch and waits, pressing an impatient palm over his erection.

He hears the door open and turns to look over the back of the couch.

The panties hug Dean’s hips, his cock clearly visible through the sheer fabric, unable to be entirely contained. Castiel’s mouth instantly waters at the sight. Dean hovers, as though he’s waiting for his next instruction.

Castiel cocks an eyebrow.

“I believe I told you that I’d like to bend you over the arm of the couch,” he says firmly. “Do not make me ask you again.”

Dean kicks himself into gear and obeys, padding lightly over to the couch before he looks Castiel in the eye and bends over. Their faces are an inch apart, but Castiel doesn’t do anything to close the gap.

“Good boy,” he hums and pushes himself to his feet. He runs his fingertips lightly over Dean’s shoulder, down his spine and over the warm black material that stretches so tantalizing over the full globes of Dean’s ass.  

“Such a nice, tight ass,” he muses. Dean takes in a sharp little breath and Castiel smiles. He raises a hand ever so slightly and brings it down softly in a tiny swat. Dean lets out a whine, and so Castiel asks, “Do you have something you’d like to say?”

“No, sir,” Dean shakes his head.

Castiel licks over his lips and brings his palm down again, harder this time. A more satisfied gasp escapes Dean’s throat, and Castiel does it again on the other cheek.

Another gasp.

“If there’s nothing you’d like to say, then stop making noise,” Castiel swats, a little harder again. Dean’s muscles tense as he holds in whatever sounds he wants to make; his toes curl into the carpet and his hands grip one of the pillows on the couch, but he doesn’t make a peep with each blow Castiel lands.

Castiel stops to shuck his shirt over his head and let his jeans pool on the carpet before he rounds the couch and relaxes on it. He slides a glance over at Dean, who is pointedly not looking at Castiel, his arms shaking to keep himself upright while he waits for an order.

“Come here,” Castiel says, and jerks his head. Dean holds in a breath and pushes himself up from the arm of the couch. He stands awkwardly in front of Cas, waiting for another set of instructions, but just for a few moments, Castiel wants to admire how incredible Dean looks. A bead of precome leaks from the tip of his cock, where it pokes out above the lace at the top of the panties, and slides down the head, disappearing against the dark fabric.

Cas rolls his shoulders and settles into the cushions before he says, “Here. On my lap.”

Dean is bulky and muscled and awkward in the way that he climbs onto the couch and tries to find the right place to sprawl across Castiel’s legs. Eventually, he lies with his arms folded on the opposite arm of the couch that they just used, forehead resting against them.

He knows that Dean can feel his erection like this.

He can feel the heat pouring off of Dean’s body, too.

Castiel rests his palm on the curve of Dean’s ass. It’s hot from taking the force of his hand, but not nearly hot enough. He rubs over the sore skin and feels Dean shift ever so slightly. But still, Dean doesn’t make a single sound, as he was instructed.

With steady hands, Cas hooks his fingers underneath the lace trim of the panties and slides them down -- not off, just down, enough to expose Dean’s magnificent ass in its entirety. He praises, “You look amazing. I wish that you could see yourself like this, Dean. Ass so red…your panties bunched up around you. Do they feel good on your cock? You can answer me.”

He watches as Dean lifts his head from his arms and licks his lips before he says, “Yes.”

“Yes, what?”

“Yes, my panties feel so good on my cock,” Dean says.

Castiel smiles.

“No more speaking,” he says, “Relax.”

Dean does so, and where Castiel skated his fingertips on the hot flesh of Dean’s bare ass, he now lands a blow. Not hard, but enough to jerk Dean forward just a little. His palm lands most on the roundest part of Dean’s ass, but he dips lower to swat at the backs of Dean’s thighs. And heaven help him, Dean is so good throughout it all. He tries a harder blow just to see if he can take it, and he does.

Castiel pauses when Dean shakily inhales.

“Can you take more?” he asks, gentler now in his tone.

The muscles of Dean’s back twitch and he says into the arm of the couch, “Yes, please, sir.”

“I can’t hear you like that, Dean.”

Dean lifts his head and repeats, “Yes, please, sir.”

Castiel winds his hand back and the sound of flesh on flesh echoes in the empty apartment. It’s the most wonderful sound that he has ever heard. So, obviously, Castiel has to make that sound again. On the third hard blow, he watches Dean start to shake. On the fourth, he watches Dean start to dissolve. On the fifth, Dean is in tears on his lap and it’s possibly the most beautiful thing that Castiel has ever seen in his life.

Carefully, Castiel lifts Dean’s legs off of him and rolls away from the couch. He says, “Don’t move,” and strolls into the bedroom to retrieve their lubricant. He knows that Dean knows what he’s going to do, and there’s something delicious in also knowing that Dean has no idea when Cas will finally do it. He takes his time stepping out of his cotton boxers and moving back onto the couch behind Dean, where he’s perched with his pink ass in the air and the sheer black panties still bunched up underneath.

Castiel pours lube over his fingers, and without warning, he thrusts one into Dean completely.

Dean doesn’t make a sound.

And that’s no fun.

“You can make as much noise as you’d like,” he says.

Dean lets out a gasp and whine. It’s satisfying.

He doesn’t take his time preparing Dean. He knows that Dean likes it rough this way sometimes, moving quickly from one slick finger to two and then three, and then withdrawing completely. He wets his erection with the lube and with a grin on his face and his legs starting to shake from his own arousal, he rubs his palms over Dean’s sensitive cheeks, parting them wide. Dean whimpers, and Castiel beams. He grips his cock at the base, and too excited for his own good, sheaths himself entirely into Dean’s tight heat.

Dean groans and whispers, “Shit.”

Castiel is relentless. He pulls back almost all the way from Dean’s body, head of his erection catching at the rim of Dean’s hole, before he slams back in. He holds Dean’s legs apart and can’t get enough of the sight before him, Dean in his black panties, face tear-stained, taking a cock like he was born for it. The couch creaks with the force of the movement -- God, what a cheap piece of shit; they’d better not break it -- and Castiel says, “Do you like this? Do you like being spanked and fucked into the couch?”

“Yes, yes,” Dean sobs, “I love it, baby, Cas, sir.” He stutters over the last of the words like he thinks that he might be punished for the slip, but Cas just moves one hand upward to stroke through Dean’s sweat-damp hair.

And then he pulls up on it, gripping in his hair and pulling his head up. Dean groans and makes a choked kind of noise, this needy, perfect --

“Fuck.”

Dean’s whole body seizes up and he’s hit with one hell of an orgasm, judging by the string of noises and garbled swears that make it out of his throat as he rides back to meet Cas’ thrusts. He clenches tight around Castiel and it’s so perfect that his hips skip a little in the movement and he almost forgets himself.

“I’m sorry,” Dean says, “Sorry, sorry -- came without permission, sorry --”

“Shh,” Castiel says, and rubs at Dean’s shoulder absently, paused in his movement, “I didn’t tell you that you couldn’t. I bet you look beautiful with those little black panties all filled up with your come. Did you like that, coming in your panties, from nothing but my cock?”

“Yes, please, Cas.” Dean is a mess, the most gorgeous mess that Castiel has ever seen. He’s possibly never been more turned on in his life, which is a hell of a statement considering the sexual shenanigans that he and Dean have been getting their paws on lately.

He doesn’t stop fucking into Dean, driving into him and rocking his body into the couch. The build of Castiel’s orgasm starts low in his belly and seems so gradual until it bursts all at once, and he’s groaning, bent over Dean’s sweaty back, buried deep inside Dean as he comes.

It takes a long, long few breaths for Castiel to find it in himself to pull his softening cock from Dean, but the sight that he’s met with makes everything worth it. Dean is gaping open and leaking come, Castiel’s come. It’s not something that Cas hasn’t seen before, but somehow, the bunched up lacy panties make it ten times more erotic than it would be without them.

“You,” Castiel breathes, “Look amazing. My come inside you...wish you could see it.”

He bends to press a kiss to the bright pink skin on either of Dean’s cheeks, swirls the tip of his finger over his swollen, open hole.

“Beautiful,” Castiel reaffirms, and flicks his tongue softly through the come dribbling out of him. Dean lets out a long, satisfied sigh.

“Kinda wish I could see you eating it out of me,” he jests back, his voice thick and hoarse from this.

All of this.

Castiel draws his fingertips lightly back over Dean’s raw, sensitive skin. He’s never been one for pain, but he knows Dean enjoys this type of thing, and in all honesty, Castiel enjoys that he’s the one who gets to do this for him.

“I’ll be right back, lover,” he hums. “And let me have the panties so I can put them in the hamper.”

Dean shifts so that Castiel can get the panties off of him, and Castiel strokes a hand over his cheek and presses a kiss to his forehead.

“Lie back and relax,” he leaves a trail of kisses leading up into his damp, sweaty hair. “I’m going to grab something to clean you up.”

He’s read (and good god, Gabriel imposed a lecture on him the other day while he was stocking the YA shelves) about BDSM and the practices surrounding it, aftercare being the most critical thing. It’s a lot of trust for Dean to put in him, and Castiel needs him to know that the trust isn’t misplaced.

So he stops to throw the panties into the hamper before he grabs a washcloth from the bathroom. He also grabs a bottle of water out of the fridge on his way back into the living room. When he returns, Dean is in the same position he left him in--fucked-out and worn to the bone.

“I’m back,” he says softly, and gives Dean a smile when he opens his eyes.

“How are you?” asks Castiel. He swipes the washcloth over the apples of Dean’s cheeks first, and Dean smiles back at him.

“I’m awesome,” he yawns. “That was awesome. You’re awesome.”

“I’m glad,” Castiel brushes at the hair plastered to his forehead. “Here, have some water.” He twists off the cap and hands it to Dean, who props himself up and tips back half the bottle in one go. He breaks from the lip of the bottle with soft, panting breaths and hands it over to Cas.

“You did so well, baby,” Castiel strokes a thumb over Dean’s cheek. “Thank you so much for letting me make you feel good.”

“Thanks,” Dean’s cheeks go a little pink, and then he nudges the bottle towards Castiel’s mouth. “You drink too, dick.”

Castiel lets out a vaguely annoyed huff, but chugs the rest of the bottle anyway before he tosses it aside.

He’ll pick that up later.

Dean watches carefully as Castiel moves down to clean the come off of his cock, and then smiles when Cas presses a kiss to his hip and tells him to turn over. He cleans Dean out as best as he can, but he doesn’t want to be too rough.

When he’s done, he sets the washcloth on the coffee table and presses a kiss to Dean’s bicep.

“Would you like to move to the bedroom?” he asks. “Can you move?”

“Yeah,” Dean pushes himself up on his elbows. “I think you left my spinal cord in tact.”

Castiel helps him up regardless and pauses to grab a couple more waters from the fridge. He makes sure to wrap himself around Dean as soon as they’re on the bed. He kisses along his hairline and down his forehead all the way to the tip of his nose.

“Nerd,” Dean jests back, affection oozing from his voice. “I love you.”

“I love you too,” Castiel gathers him even closer to his chest. “So much.”

He presses a kiss to the underside of Dean’s jaw.

“I do believe you have earned something else out of the bag,” he says.

Dean scrounges up the energy to perk up at that.

“Yeah?” he turns an eager look on Castiel, and then catches himself in another yawn. “Do I get to see it?”

Castiel kisses him on the lips, slow and sweet and sleepy before he replies, “In due time.”

 


End file.
